


The Man Underneath

by ficwriter356, h311agay



Category: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men Evolution
Genre: Angst, Confusion, Dark, Drama, Drinking, Drugs, Evil, F/M, Gen, Love/Hate, M/M, Multi, Past Violence, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-11 04:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8953633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficwriter356/pseuds/ficwriter356, https://archiveofourown.org/users/h311agay/pseuds/h311agay
Summary: Scott Summers (a.k.a Cyclops) is the fearless leader of the X-Men. People think he has it all and has it easy. Little do they know about his life and his past. When things unravel, will he still be calm and composed or will he turn to his old self?This story takes place when Scott is still in Bayville High and Jean and Duncan are in a relationship.





	1. Chapter 1

Scott Summers was in his room with palms on his face. He rubbed them intently on his forehead, trying to get rid of the impending migraine. The danger room session which took place this evening was pretty brutal. Having to lead a team of whiny teenagers was bad enough without a restless night with his nightmares. The sleepless nights were taking a toll on his mental and physical well being. It wasn't easy being a teenage mutant superhero, living up to the expectations of his mentor, Charles Xavier. He had to put on an impenetrable goody-two-shoes façade in front of everyone just because the old man said so. In some twisted part of his mind, he felt like he owed it to Xavier for rescuing him from the horror show that was his childhood. He put all the shit life had thrown at him at the back of his mind to lead his perfect little team with his perfect little mutant life. Then he met Jean. The girl who he thought he fell in love with, at least, that's what his brain processed it as.

  
Life wasn't easy as a regular normal human, but life sure as hell wasn't better as a freak with red sunglasses who was supposed to be a role model. Someone who got perfect grades and wore perfect clothes and was just fucking perfect. All he asked for was to be alone. He didn't understand people, people always hurt him, like his parents for dying, his brother for supposedly dying, Mr. Milburry for abusing him, the children at the orphanage for bullying him, the Bogarts for disappearing on him. The list went on. So, when an old man called Charles Xavier showed up and didn't hurt him or physically manipulate him, he did what his abused teenage brain could do: Accept him and look up to him like he was God. Of course he couldn't deny the old man's wish. The dream. It was his only wish after all and he didn't want to crush it by saying or thinking, "You're wrong. Your dream will never work. Just like Erik's." So he didn't. He shoved that thought into the black box in his head. If someone wasn't out to hurt him, he would hurt them with his powers. It made sense that after all the shit life had already given him, it would give him uncontrollable mutant powers that could put a hole in a mountain and took away his abilities to look someone in the eye.

  
He didn't get people and by the looks of what people called him behind his back, people didn't get him either. Normal human interaction was more confusing than battle plans. And frankly, he could do away with mean nicknames like 'Mr Stick up his ass' or 'Mr Perfect' or 'Mr Military'.  
He didn't have a good past. He couldn't be happy like Jean or be funny like Kurt because he knew his happiness would never last. Especially not for him. People always died on him. Just like his Parents.

  
From living in an orphanage of fear and escaping, to living on the streets and learning how to steal and then being caught and surviving in a juvenile hall, to living as a fugitive with Jack Winters and being physically and emotionally assaulted, his life had been hell. He was an orphan. Broken from inside because of the turmoil of losing his parents and his brother, Alex from the plane crash. He had been in a coma for a year. He discovered he had powers. He was a mutant who caused destruction by merely opening his eyes. He learnt to keep his eyes tightly shut, so no one could get hurt. He was blind without actually being blind. Oh, the irony. He had migraines from his powers being blocked constantly. Resorting to drinking , smoking up just so he could ease the pain, and then being locked up in juvenile hall for supposedly stealing where he would be tortured and tormented by fellow prisoners, his life certainly wasn't as perfect as others had deemed it to be.

  
The nights at juvie were bad. On one of the nights, the prisoners had grouped together and tried to kill him. He tried fighting but it was too much. He did what he had to do and opened his eyes. The man in front of him practically flew several feet away and died. This was the first time he killed someone. On the verge of tears, he made his escape from the shattered walls, only to find himself in the clutches of a thief named Jack Winters.

  
All this reminiscing wasn't helping. He looked into the large mirror and saw a guy who he didn't know. Because all this time, he never found himself. Standing in front of him was a stranger wearing Khaki pants and a blue sweater. If two years ago, anyone would have said that he'd be living in a mansion, eating three meals a day and have a decent room to sleep in, he would have called them crazy. He could never be himself. Before this life, he was Scott Summers the poor orphan freak and now he was Cyclops, the leader of X-Men, the stiff, the guy with a stick up his ass, Xavier's puppet. If anyone asked him who he was, he wouldn't know what to answer.

  
“Who are you, Scott Summers?” the man in front of the mirror asked himself.

  
Frankly, the mirror was pissing him off. Or was it all this emotional build up? He didn't know. He wasn't good with emotions anyway. Frustration gave way to anger.

  
“Fuck. Fuck everything!” He Yelled.

Scott grabbed the keys to his Shelby cobra and placed his wallet in his back pocket. He exited his room and headed to the garage. It was 11.00 pm on a school night and past curfew. Normally, he would never break the rules but he felt like he needed to escape. He needed a release and sitting in his room while thinking about the past was not doing him any good.

 

* * *

 

Charles Xavier knew about Scott's tragic past. At the beginning when it was just him, Ororo, Logan and Scott, he was accustomed to Scott disappearing at nights and coming back home in the early mornings reeking of alcohol and sometimes even marijuana. The smell was distinct. Luckily, Logan was hardly around during this phase. He had given Scott the free will to do as he pleased, knowing that if he forced him to quit, it would never go well. More than anything, he was afraid of the young man taking off and being used by another criminal. Charles learnt it the hard way when one morning he had interfered on Scott's 'ritual' by entering his mind uninvited. Scott had disappeared for a week and Charles vowed not to read his mind unless necessary. Scott had still not trusted anyone at the mansion, not that he blamed the boy.

“I wish there was something I could do.” Charles sighed to Ororo while looking outside his window.

“I know what you mean. But, sometimes all you can do is sit and wait. He has to make his own choices and mistakes that come with it. You must understand how hard it is for him to be an effective leader and a strong example to all his fellow X-Men when all his life he was being used. Not to mention, Jean going out with Duncan. Scott really likes her. It must be difficult for him to watch them together. It was bound to happen, Charles.” Ororo spoke with a look of understanding in her face.

“I just wish for him to get better. He won't be able to lead a team effectively unless he learns to not let emotions rule him.” He told Ororo.

“Not let emotions rule him? He hardly does that! Because of you, everyone thinks he's some kind of a robot! He is a kid. Not your child solider. Sometimes I think you forget that he's just a teenager and needs to act like one.” Ororo glared at the man in the wheelchair with disdain.

“What are you saying Ororo? How is it my fault? I gave him a home. I mentored him. He's...he's like my son! I cannot let him be as he used to with all the fear. The boy did drugs and spewed verbal obscenities when we first met him! You know how Jack Winters broke him. I cannot let my students see that!” Charles spoke back with a hitch in his voice.

“If he's your son, then treat him like one. All i'm saying is, you need to give him a break.” Ororo said to the bald man in front of her with sadness in her eyes.

“It's just hard...I've.. I've never been a father to anyone. And Scott's the most difficult kid I could have gotten.” he said with a quiver.

“I understand it can be tough. But what Scott needs is a father. Not a battle mentor.” She closed her eyes and walked away from him.

'Sigh. But how?' Charles spoke to himself and shook his head. He rolled his wheelchair and left the room with grief hanging over his head.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Night at the Xavier mansion meant, students looming in the kitchen or the recreation room. Some afraid to go to sleep and some awake just because they were teenagers. Three figures were sitting in the kitchen, discussing about their recent failed danger room simulation.

“Kurt, cut it out!” Kitty whined as Kurt tried to steal the cookies on her plate. She swatted his had away while glaring at him.

“Hey! Easy there. You don't want to break this image inducer the professor built for me.” Kurt jerked his hand away to see if his watch was working fine.

“Ugh. You guys need to grow up.” Rogue chimed in with a frown on her face while she was trying to peacefully drink her glass of orange juice and read the book in silence. She was tired of their childish bickering everyday.

“Speaking of grown up, did you see how mad Scott was at us today for failing our danger room session?” Kurt asked the group with a small frown.

“Yeah. He needs to chill out. It's not like we all have it as easy as he does! He obviously has more experience in the danger room unlike us. I mean, give me a break!” Kitty said with a pout.

“You guys don't even know him. Maybe he just wants us to be safe and to be safe you need to take these lessons seriously.” Rogue mentioned as she went back to reading her book while avoiding looking at them in the eyes, afraid they would know she had a soft spot for their field leader.

They heard soft footsteps and turned their heads watching Evan and Bobby appear out of the shadows.

“He's probably had it easy all his life. Ya know. Straight A's and a clean record.” Evan chimed in while giving them a knowing smirk.

“It seems too good to be true. Nobody can be that perfect. We might have to do some digging. If we find some dirt on him, we could at least get away from a danger room session.” Bobby said with an evil grin.

“You two need to get a life.” Rogue inwardly rolled her eyes at the thought of Bobby being evil. Everyone had known Bobby was a goof. He thought he could be evil, but he really couldn't. The Iceman wasn't as cold as people thought him to be. She gave him about ten seconds before he turned into a puddle of goo after seeing some cute puppy videos online. It was still comforting to know that he wasn't as jaded as herself.

“Scott's a good guy. But Rogue! Think about all the free time we'll have if we don't have to sweat all day in the danger room!” Kitty said excitedly.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Not very far from the institute was Harry's Bar situated in New York. A red shelby cobra was seen in the parking lot, while it's owner was in the bar.

“Scotch. Neat.” A brown haired young man with Red Sunglasses spoke to the bartender in a carefully monotone voice. 

The bartender was a big heavy set fellow in his mid thirties with long blond hair, tied up in a ponytail. He looked at the young man sitting in front of him curiously and scrutinized the guy. “Aren't ya a little young to be drinking, kid? I'm gonna have to see your ID.”

Not new to this situation, he reached for his wallet and took out an ID, showing it to the bartender. He eyed the young man suspiciously for a minute to see if he was showing any signs of nervousness usually common with teenagers. When failing to do so, he shrugged and handed him his drink. 

After a while, the young man was quietly drinking his fifth glass of the night when he saw a blind man sitting next to him. It was the same blind man who helped him out once when he was in trouble and couldn't go to the professor for his help. “Nice to hear you're alive Scotty. You sure it's a good idea to drink when you're underage?” The last part was whispered softly.

“Matt. Look's like your abilities are still sharp. What are you doing in this part of town?” Scott asked him while placing his drink on the table.  
“I had some business. Go to the institute Scott. You shouldn't be drinking. You don't need any more trouble. I'll call you in the morning.” Matt said, remembering how he had to pull Scott out of trouble in the past for drinking at a similar bar. They were long overdue for a conversation.  
“I'm not one of your one night stands. You really don't need to call me.” Scott spoke up while drinking again.  
“Sigh. Never said you were. We hardly ever talk. What's up with that? Are you fine?” Matt asked him while gently placing a hand on Scott's wrist.  
“I've been busy. What about you?” Scott said while taking a gulp from his drink.  
“Been busy too. You know...Superhero stuff.” Matt replied back. Scott was one of the few people who knew his identity as the Daredevil. “You know, normally I would allow you to drink under my supervision like we did before, but I have to go. I just spotted someone and I need some answers. Call a cab and go home. Don't drive. Later Scotty.” Matt said while getting up from his seat and left a twenty dollar bill next to his drink.  
“Later.” Scott replied back. He placed his finished glass on the counter.

After contemplating for a few minutes over what Matt said, he decided to ignore the older man's advice. Matt and Scott had met a few months ago when Scott got a bad fake ID to buy alcohol at a bar. Scott got into trouble with the bartender and Matt was there, saving his sorry ass. In retrospective, it was a good thing he was a lawyer. Matt was a few years older than Scott but after their encounter, they stayed in touch.  
Every now and then, Scott would go to Matt's place and get hammered with him. Matt had no objection to him drinking as long as he could watch over Scott. They had formed a friendship and the fact that they both shared similar issues made it that much easier to talk to. Usually, Scott would listen to Matt but this time he didn't want to. Not that he had something against the blind superhero. But, he just couldn't bring himself to.

Scott paid the bartender and walked out of the bar. He headed towards his car and got inside, driving to a secluded spot. It was his hideout for whenever he wanted some peace or time away from the mansion and the chaos surrounding it. He reached the clearing and parked his car a few feet away from the cliff which over looked the city. Sitting on the grass, he lit up a joint and took a long drag. He sighed and looked at the tinted sky. Everything was always tinted in his glasses. Frustrated, he took a few more drags until numbness started appearing. He knew he should be thankful that he could see but it still hurt him deeply to never see the true colour of the skies again. 

“I can't do this anymore. I'm better off alone.” He thought out loud as melancholy set in. He was tired and worn out. Soon after completing his joint, his vision grew hazy. He hobbled towards his car and contemplated if he should or shouldn't drive.

It was 2.00 AM. He chose to drive. His judgment had been compromised due to the drugs in his system. Picking up the speed, he drove past speed limit at 100 miles per hour. He was always a bit of a speed freak, but never had he driven fast while intoxicated. With the wind in his hair and tears in his eyes , he drove across the secluded forest road. Missing an important turn, Scott tried his best to control by gradually reducing the speed but the wheels went spinning as he braced for impact. The car slid sideways while the tires struck the curb, digging into the soft ground which caused the vehicle to roll over.

Lying in the car was an unconscious Scott Summers. Luckily, he was wearing a seat belt.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank You H311agay for editing and helping me with the story!


End file.
